Well blow me, it's Jeremy!
by TheFallenShadow
Summary: This story will make you raise one eyebrow skeptically so many times, you may even get a stitch. You have been warned. Uh...oh please read and review!
1. We discover that Mayikte is a sod

Although many of its residents denied it, The Ald Skar inn in Ald Ruhn was not without its fair share of mysteries. Ancient tales told of spirits that would walk the lower level at midnight, victims of the Heartfire Massacre. A tragedy had occurred there many years ago, yet the Inn still bore scars.

Mayikte was not one for such a tale. After serving what he considered a respectable amount of time in the Imperial Garrison (Three Days) He had decided to leave and pursue his own dreams in life. These were pretty linear, and were usually decided on the spot.

It was time for one of those spur of the moment decisions that Mayikte had become infamous for. It was time to rent a room, and kick some ass.

Or so he thought.

The not so loveable rogue stepped across the threshold of the inn and swaggered up to the bartender, who was fruitlessly attempting to remove a purple stain from a mug that had seen better days.

The Ald Skar Inn's décor was interesting, at best. Most placed followed the trend of the odd mounted bear head on the wall, and a roaring fire, while this Inn was clearly in need of a touch up. The wallpaper that had been carelessly thrown up against the walls was peeling away rapidly, trailing down to a floor riddled with broken tiles and the odd slipper, oddly enough.

As Mayikte approached the bartender, he raised his eyebrows and suddenly forgot completely about the mug he was cleaning.

'Good evening,' Mayikte sneered amidst the sound of breaking glass.

'Oh, shit-, uh…hallo, there sonny!' Replied the bartender, as he bent down to pick up the pieces of what was once his prize mug. 'A room, then? Or maybe a brew?'

'Both, if you could manage it,' Mayikte replied, adding a touch of charm to his voice this time. It worked.

'Certainly!' The bartender, said, taking a ledger out of one of the draws which appeared to shoved into the counter at a 45 degree angle. He scribbled out a few artificial guests to the list- just in case an inspector showed up and wanted to know if anyone even visited this place- and looked up at Mayikte with a big grin on his face.

'Ah, a room…well, room four is free…and room five for that matter…oh, and room six, fancy that!'

'Spare me the theatrics, Inkeep.' Mayikte snapped, 'I know full well that you only have two rooms and one of them is the cupboard under the flippin' stairs!'

The bartender blushed.

'Right, well, that is right, I suppose, know, where were we? Oh, yes! Number one, then?'

'Yes, and do remove your shipment crates of scrib jelly before relinquishing the key, if you don't mind,'

The bartender nodded frantically.

'Yes! Yes, and yes again, Sir! I will attend to it right away,' He turned to leave, but then seemed to change his mind, 'Oh, by the way, Sir,' he added, leaning over the counter, 'May I ask…how did you know about that scrib jelly, eh?'

Mayikte sighed.

'Well, partly because you are carrying in your left pocket a scrap of paper that states…and I quote… "Dear Boss. I got your…jello…I'll stick it room one,'

The bartender glanced down at his apron and blushed.

'Right. Yes. Um…room one, then, was it?'


	2. We Discover who the Bartender is

**Mayikte trooped up the stairs behind the bartender, tucking into a box of continental mints that he'd borrowed from the Ald Skar store room. It wasn't stealing, he was going to wake up one morning and find two or three of the things in his bed sheets anyway. No one seemed to keen on free stuff these days. That didn't matter, Mayikte would say, all the more for me!**

**The barkeeper- whose self esteem had now been reduced to that of a shrew- gingerly opened the door to room one. He began to remove the crates of Scrib jelly, as instructed, while Mayikte made snide comments. Eventually, he got bored, went downstairs, and helped himself to the bartender's life savings and some Flin. It wasn't long before a very tired looking bartender arrived at the door.**

'**Sir, your room is ready. Cleaned it 'me self, see…' He grinned hopefully as Mayikte entered the room. **

'**How do you find it, Sir?' He shouted at the door to room one, fishing for compliments.**

**A large, expensive boot lined with mint wrappers clipped him on the back of the head as he made his way downstairs.**

**Had the Ald Skar inn not been so bad for business, the bartender, whose name was Jeremy, would have told his only customer exactly where he could shove his unfair and downright rude comments. However, the rent didn't pay itself, and up 'til now, Jeremy had been doing some of the most outlandish odd jobs the Redoran Council could come up with. They probably thought of it as a bit of a laugh, maybe had a competition for the worst job to give to old Jeremy. It was very demeaning, as stated earlier. Jeremy the Oddjobber, they called him. Well, no longer. Old Jeremy wasn't standing for it any longer. In fact, he was going to take a stand. **

**As Jeremy wasn't the sharpest tool in the box, it had taken him a good few hours to complete this train of thought. At around three in the morning, he knocked down the door of room one and chucked a Tanto over to Mayikte.**

'**Get outta bed!' He growled, 'I'm off to go and make a stand. My wife went to bed six minutes ago, and if I woke her up, she'd tear me bleedin' head off. That means you're second in command, chum. C'mon sissy boots…let's go!'**

**With that, Jeremy leapt out of the window. Even though he'd broken down the door, it was still a perfectly good exit. But, Jeremy wasn't the sharpest tool in the box. **

**Mayikte simply sat in his bed for a few seconds, purely bewildered. Then-**

'**What the hell are you talking about, you stupid old man?'**


End file.
